


Running On Fumes, Running on Pride

by unshurtugal



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Escorts, Boss/Employee Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 05:30:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3435275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unshurtugal/pseuds/unshurtugal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt is in the high class business of male escorts and Blaine is the newbie. Kurt naturally falls for Blaine and won’t let him sleep with any other clients without explanation. Blaine thinks that it’s because he’s terrible in bed, so he’s intent on proving Kurt “wrong.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running On Fumes, Running on Pride

Blaine walked up the large, ornate marble staircase leading to his prospective new boss and a new future, whatever it was.

He needed money. It always came down to money. Isn’t that how most stories start? At least the good ones, anyway.

Blaine wanted to be a doctor. That was his “dream.” At least that was something he knew that could keep him challenged and feel worthwhile for the majority of his life.

However, the funds for medical school weren’t available to him because he wasn’t the best of the best. His parents wished they could help support his talent, but they didn’t ever seem to make enough to get by. But they were supportive nonetheless. So what was a 23 year old supposed to do? He had big ambitions and desires, and nobody and nothing would get in the way of that. And this job paid a minimum of 2,000 dollars a night. Blaine didn’t care what parts of his dignity and self he would sacrifice for this job.

Whatever it takes.

Blaine’s face was set in a hard, determined line when he was greeted at the top by a handsome man in a dashing suit fit to a crisp. He towered over Blaine, and then in intimidating manner told him, “Take this. Change in the bathroom at the end of the long hall on the right. The boss is waiting for you in the next room.”

Blaine nodded stiffly, robotically, taking the silk blue robe he was offered and ran it over in his hands. It was probably the finest fabric he’s ever felt in his entire life. So smooth and delicate it made his spine quiver.

He did as told, he was always good at that. His bare feet padded across the cool floor almost soundlessly, making his way to his destination. The doorway was open already, waiting, and Blaine flipped on the light to discover this bathroom he was supposed to change in was bigger than his entire apartment. The mirror stretched the length of the room and stopped right before the toilet on the end, decorated with a lavish lid cover and potpourri. _There was no way anyone ever took a dump in here_ , Blaine thought. _It would almost be insulting._

Deciding he was taking too much interest in simple distractions, Blaine began to undress. Familiar comfort fell from his body only to take refuge on the floor as Blaine’s flesh pimpled from the coolness of the bathroom. He picked up the robe from where he tossed it and slid his arms through. The silk felt amazing on his skin and accentuated him in a way that had Blaine staring at himself in awe in the mirror. The rich blue accented the olive tones of his skin and contrasted the bright hazel of his eyes and dark hair. He was quite a sight, even Blaine had to admit that to himself.

Before leaving, Blaine folded his clothes neatly by the sink but that didn’t stop the sweat of his palms when he exited the bathroom, having a momentary freak out of where to go. _There had to be a millions rooms in this place_ , probably even some that haven’t ever been inhabited by any human presence before.

But he took a breath and then heard calm, hushed voices nearby and followed them.

The room the boss and his associates sat in was possibly even more gaudy than the outside entranceway that Blaine found himself gawking at on the way in as he toed his shoes off. The decor was impeccable, and he was once again stunned that any of this was possible for someone so young. _That_ amount of success.

The whole place reeked of a massive wealth Blaine would never understand. He couldn’t even fathom how one person could possibly make so much money, spend so much, and still have enough leftover. It almost made Blaine want to wrinkle his nose in disgust. He was used to living paycheck to paycheck like most people.

 _Did any of these people know what it was like to even struggle?_ Blaine wondered. Or did they always have things handed to them?

Blaine despised his boss before he even met him, and he hated that he had that gut reaction... but that was until Blaine actually saw him.

The boss was dressed _impeccably_. The jacket he wore was so perfectly tailored that it made Blaine’s throat tight. He couldn’t even name the brand, and that was a shocking realization in itself. The slacks he wore were snug against his lean thighs, straight lined down to his amazing boots. And the brooch pinned to his chest matched his ascot, pulling the entire thing together. 

This was a self-made man, Blaine realized. Only _he_ was accounted for his success. Blaine quite literally had to suppress a whine, but that wasn’t even the beginning of it.

His _face_ was a miracle in itself.

The boss’ hair swooped up to the heavens with dashes of natural blond highlights through deep chestnut brown. His eyes sparkled like an unseen galaxy - green, blue with light brown flecks. Each time he blinked, even that was too long to keep such treasures hidden. His cheeks looked hollow and sculpted by the gods; skin so pale and as magnificent as marble. Each feature was acute and sharp, but in all the best ways. Blaine actually couldn’t believe someone could look like that.

So in that moment Blaine realized he was completely infatuated. Maybe even a little bit in love. 

But then with a jolt, Blaine did another once over and noticed faint age lines around the boss’ eyes and a budding, very non-adolsecent facial hair growth along his neck and jaw.

This was no young man. He was at least 30, 35 years old. Maybe even 40. _No not 40_ , Blaine assured himself, _but utterly and completely out of my league it’s not even funny_. 

With such good looks, prestige and success Blaine wanted to laugh at himself for even taking any sort of interest. The boss constantly had a parade of young males doing his bidding. There was absolutely nothing he could ask for and not receive. 

The whiplash of dozens of emotions in such quick succession made Blaine want to tumble head first into the carpet, but all he could do was gulp down the lump that built itself in his throat. 

This was definitely something Blaine hadn’t planned on anticipating when he was told about ‘ _Mr. Hummel’s male escort services._ ’ Blaine was expecting a Hugh Hefner - creepy old guy type. Or a snotty young brat whose parents passed down their business to their son. Definitely not.. _this_.

 _He honestly looked like an angel_. Just as that thought crossed his mind, the boss’ eyes met his and suddenly Blaine was plunged back into the here and now.

It was almost like the boss just noticed him standing there gaping for at least a minute and a half. He turned his head serenely, long dancing fingers in his lap. He smiled, and Blaine lost his breath. He swore he could see reflected interest there, but that most likely a misinterpretation on his part. _I mean c’mon, Blaine_.

Then, in a clear, high melodic voice he finally said, “Drop the robe, let me see you.”

Business as instructed. 

Blaine’s heart still pounded in his ears as he made with the belt of the robe, his hands now so inexplicably dry he could barely stand it. He hesitated for just a second before letting the loose fabric drop, flowing like lukewarm water over his skin and pool at his ankles. 

They were all looking at him, but the boss - _Mr. Hummel_ \- was the only one who looked remotely interested. Cheeks flaming, Blaine tried to puff out his chest and clench his abs for good measure, trying to look his best while he felt most vulnerable. 

"Turn," Mr. Hummel told him.

Blaine obeyed, turning gracefully on the tips of his toes in a slow circle. Back facing them all, Blaine could see in his peripherals Mr. Hummel talking lowly to all of them, appraising Blaine like a fine piece of meat.

And maybe he was, because Blaine was starting to grow hard under the attention. With as much willpower he had left in him, Blaine faced back front again, attempting to think of the most vile things to calm himself down. He scrunched up his face in concentration.

"No that’s good," Mr. Hummel said suddenly. "I love to see what you have to work with."

His voice was basically a purr, and Blaine couldn’t take it. His cock pulsed, full-mast. Mr. Hummel hummed contentedly. 

An associate to the boss’ left leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Mr. Hummel nodded approvingly.

"Grade A ass, I must agree," Mr. Hummel shared. Blaine had the decency to at least blush.

The boss then contemplated his potential hire for a little while after that.

"You all must leave now," the boss announced, getting to his feet. He looked much taller standing, his legs seemingly going on for miles. But within seconds, they all left, leaving the two of them alone. 

Blaine made to reach for the robe to put back on, assuming he were to leave too but the boss stopped him, steadying his wrist.

"No, we aren’t finished yet," Mr. Hummel said gently. "We must now move on to the private interview process."

"O-okay," Blaine replied shakily, his cock harder than ever and was now embarrassingly dripping from the tip and down onto the carpet. He wanted to apologize or say anything intelligent, but he couldn’t find it in himself to do so. He _so_ wasn’t getting this job.

"Your name?" Mr. Hummel prompted, letting go of Blaine’s wrist to rake the backs of his fingernails up Blaine’s muscled arms to round off at his shoulders.

"Blaine Anderson," Blaine replied instantly.

"Blaine.. Anderson," Mr. Hummel’s words soaked over his name, as if trying it out on his tongue. "You are very well-formed. Very promising. I’m glad that Puckerman recommended you."

"T-thank you," Blaine stuttered, wanting to smack himself. He should have worked out more for this. He wasn’t in the best physique he could have been.

Mr. Hummel began circling him slowly, calculating; _ravenous_. His fingers were everywhere, feeling, caressing, _tempting_. Blaine was quaking on his heels, the pressure on his cock so overwhelming that he was starting to feel light-headed. He quivered with each touch, _especially_ after that cup over his ass. Blaine inhaled as the tips of Kurt's deft fingers pinched oh so slight.

But that was nothing until the boss stopped in front of him, their faces close and his hand wrapped fully around Blaine’s cock in one elegant motion. This time, a pathetic whimper whispered through his lips and there was no chance of stopping it. He might have rocked a little bit forward into Mr. Hummel's warm palm, as well. Rookie move, but the hottest guy in the world was touching him, Blaine couldn't help it.

"Ahhh," Mr. Hummel sighed, pumping Blaine leisurely, expertly. His sweet breath washed over Blaine’s face, embracing Blaine’s high. "You feel good."

“ _You_ feel good,” Blaine choked, wanting to cry it felt so amazing to be touched like this by someone so beautiful. And it’s been _so long_.

"You have an amazing cock," Mr. Hummel told him in that velvety voice again and Blaine could have just died from the clucking sound in the ‘c.’ The boss relished in the slow accentuating of his lips to a round circle before releasing a small smirk for good measure. His eyes twinkled with desire.

Blaine wanted to kill him. Blaine wanted to _fuck him_.

“Please,” he gasped through tight lips instead as the boss began picking up his pace, but then there was stupid fucking smirk again.

"I have a better idea," Mr. Hummel teased, shockingly dropping to his knees in front of Blaine, running his hands up his sides and down to hold firmly on his lower back, just shy of the slope of his ass. The boss was breathing like he couldn’t handle himself, that Blaine was something to be desired.

Blaine was astonished, mouth open in complete awe. He darlingly nudged his tip against the boss’ mouth, which he groped affectionately under his balls in return and allowed Blaine deep into his mouth, warm, languid and so gloriously tight.

Everything in Blaine relaxed, allowing Mr. Hummel to take over as he pleased. But just before he really went to town, he gave Blaine the good news.

"By the way, you’re in."

***

"Do you do this with all your new hires?" Blaine asked with a small laugh, finding himself in Kurt’s magnificent bed later that evening and too curious not to ask.

 _Kurt_ , Blaine had to get used to that. Kurt insisted he be called as such.

"Yeah, usually," the man in question replied vaguely, distracted by the rummaging in the beside drawer.

For some reason, Blaine was okay with this, especially when he noticed Mr. Hummel - _Kurt_ \- was pitching some serious tent and pulling out a hearty handful of condoms. Blaine didn’t even care that his ass was still stinging, it was fucking amazing.

"How about another go?" Kurt smiled and bat his lashes, knowing full well that it would get Blaine again. Blaine might have mentioned it maybe once or twice between moans.

"I think I’m going to really like it here," Blaine returned playfully, pulling Kurt on top of him for a deep kiss, his legs opening willingly for this surprisingly down to earth, filthy rich older man that happened to be his new boss.

Blaine didn’t even realize he probably would be eating his words later.

***

Mr. Brennan was waiting in room 203. A popular client, since he was always generous with tips. _Very_ generous. 

He requested the newbie this time, if at all possible and Blaine was excited. He was already getting into the swing of things after a few weeks, making quick friends and sleeping with a few attractive people that he would normally not object to in the real world.

The only down side was that he wasn’t seeing as much action as the rest from what it seemed. Blaine assumed it was because he was fresh meat and he needed to work his way up the professional chain, and he was just fine with that. He always enjoyed proving himself worthy.

Apparently Mr. Brennan was in his mid-fifties, a stock-broker and not much of a looker, but he just liked to watch. He claimed that being a married man for over half his life has made him ‘curious’ but at least he didn’t touch. He sometimes jerked off, and the sessions weren’t very long because of his hectic work schedule.

And one thing Blaine knew how to do was dance, even if it wasn’t ever erotic before. The night was definitely going to be a good one.

That was until Blaine was making his way to room 203, straightening his tie and clearing his throat, he ran into Joe, one of his coworkers once he rounded the corner. 

"Oh sorry man," Joe apologized, swinging his long dreads over his shoulder and flashing Blaine a charming smile. "Didn’t see you there."

"What are you doing here," Blaine pouted at the thought of sharing. "Did Mr. Brennan ask for both of us?"

Joe fiddled with his nose ring. “Nah, man, the boss told me there was a switch up. I assumed he told you?”

Blaine ground his teeth. Not _again_. “No he didn’t.”

Joe looked uncomfortable. “Well, I mean.. we can give him a call and check-“

"No it’s fine, you take this one," Blaine interrupted, turning on his heel back where he came from. Joe was fairly new from what he gathered, so Mr. Brennan probably wouldn’t know the difference. 

"Alright well later," Joe hollered after him. "I’ll split the tips if you want!"

" _No_ \- just.. have fun!" Blaine called over his shoulder, ignoring the comment because frankly he was too pissed off with Kurt to even concentrate.

Blaine returned to his suite to find one of Kurt’s main associates/bodyguard (Blaine wasn’t really sure what his job title was) standing outside his door, arms crossed and fiercely menacing. Was Blaine in some sort of trouble?

"There you are," he said when Blaine approached. "I have something for you."

It was a card, large and extravagant with only the swooping words of, ‘ _I request an audience with you tomorrow at my humble home, many regards - Kurt._ ’

Other than that, the card was blank.

"Why?" Blaine couldn’t help but ask, feeling utterly confused. 

The guard shrugged, the corner of his mouth downturned. “Be there at noon, the boss won’t like if you’re late.”

And with that, he left.

Blaine had a hard time sleeping that night.

***

Kurt was a-flurry in his kitchen, pacing back and forth from the expansive island counter, then at least 25 feet to the nearest sink and back to rummage through his cabinets in the opposite direction. 

Blaine’s eyes followed, darting between his smooshed cheeks under his pressing palms. He wasn’t impressed with this “audience.” Blaine was definitely expecting something much more exciting.

"I’m going to make you something I’d guarantee you’d never had before, at least this good! _Muah_ -” he made the sound and motion with his lips, delighted with the ingredients he was foraging. 

Blaine’s bland expression didn’t change. He wasn’t going to forgive that easily, especially when his pride had been shot. Blaine was up all night tossing and turning, coming up with all sorts of explanations but only one stood out to make any sort of sense: _he must be inadequate in bed_.

For one, Kurt would be aware, since they had been intimate before, and two, he probably switched Joe to Mr. Brennan so he wouldn’t lose any money or business. It made sense, but it didn’t stop Blaine from feeling like total shit.

One thought stranded into another, like should he have done different positions with Kurt, should he have moaned less; moaned more? Should he have tried topping instead, or talked dirty? There was just no way to know, other than the possible bad reviews from unsatisfied customers over the weeks. He only had a few partners prior to starting this job.

It just sucked. Blaine had always been a confident lover, and now that huge part of his ego has been compromised by this pathetically rich and lonely man. Like, _what the fuck_.

So was Kurt here just giving him the nice prelude before a giant dumping? I mean, why else would Kurt ask him over to just hang out, having dinner and small talk? Blaine wasn’t in the mood for that, so he decided to make his way to blunt.

"So you aren’t going to give me any sort of explanation I take it?"

Kurt paused for a second, looking a bit surprised, but his eyes never left his handiwork. “What do you mean? Should I apologize for cooking? You haven’t even tried it yet-“

"Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, you know what you did, so fess up to it and get it over with."

Blaine felt bad for sounding so rude, especially to someone who was his authority per se, but he hated being toyed with. He preferred straight answers, even if it stung for a bit. 

Kurt leaned against the counter, looking thoughtful. He finally met Blaine’s eyes since the first moment Blaine was invited in. 

"Pray tell, honestly," Kurt said, rolling up his sleeves with care. "I do not know what I’ve done to offend or wrong you."

Kurt actually looked genuine, which made Blaine sigh long and heavy. He really thought Kurt was supposed to be the older man here. Why wouldn’t he just tell Blaine he was fired already?

"You switched me with Joe on a client who requested me. And now you’re acting like everything is fine. I joined the business not just for play. I need the cash.”

Kurt’s eyes averted in a way that Blaine interpreted that he wasn’t being taken seriously. He bent over and grabbed a pan from under the dishwasher, waving Blaine off. 

"You’ll still get paid."

Blaine was already geared up to argue, so he felt toppled by Kurt’s response. “What, why? I didn’t do anything.”

Kurt appraised him for a moment, affection in his eyes. But it was the kind of affection an adult gives when cooing at a baby. 

"Oh honey, now I see! You took this all personally! None of that was no slight against you! Joe just simply needed the extra shift because he called in the other day as he was spending the day with his daughter.. his ex-wife barely lets him see her," Kurt explained lightly. "Royal bitch, I must admit."

Kurt laughed high peals of joy at his own slight, but Blaine continued to frown. All the signs of avoidance were there. Despite the fact that the story might be true, Blaine knew deep in his gut that there was another reason. From what he gathered, if anyone ever called in, they were just s-o-l, not given more privileges, no matter the reason. This was a serious business. 

So was the real reason something that Kurt was just too afraid to tell Blaine? Dread clutched at Blaine’s heart at the thought, losing any sort of inhibition. It all came out.

"It’s because I’m a lousy lay isn’t it?" Blaine slouched in his chair looking miserable. "I’m a boring old pussy bottom."

Kurt actually looked shocked, his pretty little mouth popping open with an audible sound. He dropped the red onion he was holding and it hit the floor with a dull thud. It rolled, and Blaine couldn’t help but follow it with his eyes, watching small pieces of the outer-layer crumble in its wake on the immaculate floor. Kurt’s toes twitched.

"Why on earth would you even think that?" Kurt sounded breathless. It was very odd to hear him like that, one who commanded so much power and attention.

Blaine threw his arms up into the air, exasperated. “What else am I supposed to think?”

Unexpectedly, Kurt laughed again, light and delicate as he bent over to retrieve the onion from the floor. It made Blaine want to grind his teeth again. 

"Anything but that," Kurt drawled. "Quite the contrary, actually."

Kurt then turned on the stove and started humming as if his answer was completely satisfactory. Blaine was flummoxed. He didn’t know what to think anymore.

"So what gives then? You’re paying me for nothing. That doesn’t make any sense! It defeats the purpose of me being here doesn’t it?" Blaine raised his voice because the ingredients in the pan started sizzling loudly.

"You’re a valued member of our team, I assure you," Kurt said quietly, and Blaine really just wanted to smack him. _Take me serious god dammit!_

"How so?" Blaine countered, getting to his feet but held his ground.

Kurt answered immediately. “Not only are you the most well-rounded, no pun intended - _ha!_ \- member of this team, you receive the highest compliments from our most esteemed customers in terms of satisfaction over even existing employees and new alike as of late.”

Blaine quite literally could have ripped his hair out. “Then why - am - I - _not_ \- working?! I haven’t had a real client in almost a week and everyone else has had at least one a night! I believe in reaping what you sow, and earning what you make, so I will absolutely refuse handouts! Take that or I’m leaving!”

Kurt went quiet for a long time, resolutely stirring the noodles he recently added, and of course it smelled delectable as Blaine heaved from his outburst. He waited.

"I owe you an apology," Kurt finally said, his voice softer than Blaine had ever heard it. "I must admit that even being born into a business such as this, I still find it very difficult to express myself on an intimate level."

Blaine gathered himself before questioning tentatively, “What do you mean?”

Kurt took a deep breath. “I want you to consider this: _I like you_. I like you a lot, actually. Enough so, that it was to the point where I just couldn’t stand the thought of you being with someone else. Especially since you're such a gem, someone, _anyone_ could steal you away at any moment. But I was being selfish and abused my own power over you and your trust. Your body is yours to give, not mine to own. Sometimes I need reminding of that.”

After that, he said nothing, just hunched over and continued what he was doing, the visible part of his pale neck turning pink. Blaine thought it was adorable, to say the least. But his initial anger and confusion was hard to digest.

He wanted to be mad, he _should_ be mad, but it evaporated completely and what was left was this unbelievable release of butterflies in his throat, causing his stomach to swoop and heart flip in the most glorious way. He suddenly felt so nervous and exhilarated he didn't know how to react.

"You like me," Blaine said, relishing in the beauty of the reality. Someone like Kurt actually liked _him_. Of all people! More than just mildly, too. It all made sense now. Blaine's cheeks started to hurt from smiling.

Kurt didn’t invite Blaine over to soften the blow of him losing this job so soon. He was just too afraid to admit he wanted to spend some time with Blaine, get to know him better in the only way he knew how.

Blaine’s feet were moving before he even formulated anything coherent in his mind.

"You like me,” Blaine repeated breathlessly, grinning like a complete idiot. Kurt still didn’t say anything.

Blaine touched the lower part of his back once he was close enough, and Kurt flinched, feigning the movement as if he was just turning off the stove, no big deal.

Was Kurt.. _shy?_

Blaine leaned forward slowly, lips reaching the curve of Kurt’s smooth neck. He shivered violently.

" _You like me_ ," Blaine murmured, lips teasing now as they brushed against Kurt’s trembling skin, the pan full of food now pushed aside out of harms way.

Kurt turned around in Blaine’s arms, a deep flush high on his cheek bones. Blaine welcomed the movement like he was expecting it. He was in control now.

"I do," Kurt told Blaine, and then they were kissing.

Passonate, raw - _hot_. Kurt fisted his hands in Blaine’s hair and Blaine leaned him back against the counter so his tongue could lash deeper down his throat. There was this possessiveness radiating off the two of them, shivering across their skin and to their groins pressed together and filling with scorching blood.

"I’m yours," Blaine gasped, ragged and desperate, pulling Kurt’s beautifully pressed dress shirt apart until the buttons popped and scattered across the floor with quiet clatters; Kurt’s hands grabbing fist-fulls of Blaine’s ass as he ground against him, filthy and obscene. 

Blaine dragged his teeth across Kurt’s stubbled throat. “You like this don’t you?”

Kurt whined, long and drawn-out. Pathetic and whimpery as Blaine worked his magic. He knew he was good. He knew exactly how to give Kurt what he wanted. It was so insane that he had this effect on his boss, and that fueled the best of it.

"Taking advantage of younger boys with your good looks and money," Blaine continued to whisper all the while maintaining the sharp thrust between them, the friction so hot that it made small hairs all across his body stand on end. "But I’m the only one that got to you, old man."

Kurt moaned throatily, begging, giving Blaine more of his long neck to feast upon and Blaine was happy to oblige. Dark, purpling bruises formed under drying saliva, their clothes falling in quick succession until only their naked, sweaty bodies remained. Blaine's pants remained around his knees, his unclasped belt clacking against the drawers. The protruding part of the counter cut into Kurt’s ass, but he really didn’t care.

All the while, Blaine never stopped.

"I need you to fuck me," Kurt pleaded between sloppy kisses, his cock sliding against Blaine’s but it just wasn’t enough. Nothing was ever enough for him, so it seemed.

Blaine was so caught up in it, he wanted to turn Kurt around and fuck him dry right there, but even he couldn’t give him that much of a punishment.

"Reach into my back pocket," Blaine huffed, lifting Kurt to the counter, who instantly wrapped his legs around Blaine's waist, instinctual, and so _sexy_.

Kurt did as told, retrieving a small bottle of lube that Blaine kept with him at all times, as was necessary for his job description. Kurt popped off the lid with his teeth in haste and squirted the clear liquid onto his own fingers and Blaine's. Kurt spread himself, lifting his legs up higher as Blaine probed at his tight, muscled hole, until it finally gave way for Blaine to slide in.

" _God_ ," Kurt moaned in ecstasy, his head falling back, the column of his throat sticking through his delicious ivory skin. Blaine sunk his teeth in and thrust inside in one motion, not able to wait a moment longer.

Kurt gripped the nape of his neck with one hand, and the nails of his other into Blaine's rippling back. Blaine could smell Kurt on his fingers, and all around them. His eyes became heavy-lidded, drunk, yet so filled with energy, tingling all his nerve-endings. He slammed forward, and Kurt's legs tightened around his waist. Blaine braced himself against the counter and thrust forward again. And again. _Again._ His hips smacked loudly against Kurt's wet, stretched ass, jarring Kurt's teeth as he exclaimed in pleasure. They both shook, they both sweat, they both couldn't stop fucking into each other, harder - _closer_. 

"I still want more of you," Kurt whined helplessly, eyes wide and bright. Blaine caught Kurt's lip in his mouth. "I want _all of you_."

That was saved the bedroom upstairs where they continued to consummate their union.

***

Needless to say, the whole company talked about for weeks on end after that; that it was the loudest they heard Mr. Hummel take it in a long time. The boss needed it, frankly.

"That’s one for the history books," Daniel chuckled from his post outside, elbowing the guard next to him who was the one who allegedly delivered the invitation that started it all. "That Blaine there is a real _up and comer_.”

They both laughed.


End file.
